8pm April 18
Sunday
The Great Hall after the dishes have been cleared

The castle was abuzz once again! For a fortnight it had been all but emptied out of children, their voices, and their tumbling footfalls.  Hogwarts was at her best filled with students and the students at their best when they were there.  But it was this periodic moments of active filling that seemed to energize everyone more than usual.  The end of the spring holiday meant that it was the last legs of the school year, but not before frightening finals, overwhelming OWLs and nefarious NEWTS. 

The topic of careers was particularly on the minds of the sixth years who'd be heading into their final turn around Hogwarts.  It was now or never when it came to getting a head start on life.

Figaro Sellaphix, one such sixth year, looked particularly full of life as he more or less barged into the Great Hall.  He moved like a man on a mission, a wizard with a will.  His eyes scanned over the clusters of students at the tables, chatting and studying, playing games.  He was looking for someone although no one in particular.  Soon Figaro was quickly trotting to the magenta-haired Zia Piselli.

He touched her arm and not very subtly tried to coax her away from her friends and out of her seat with him.  Figaro had never been subtle.  "Zia," he hissed in an attempt to be covert.  "Zia, hey, you got a minute?  Kind of...urgent."

Indeed Figaro did appear to have something important on his mind.  Would his old classmate be able to help? Or abet as was often the case with Figaro...

Zia didn't have much to do on Sundays. She always finished her homework on Fridays, right after class. Zia worked best in bursts; as someone who  was easily distracted, Zia knew that if she waited until Saturday or Sunday to do her homework, she would never get it done. It was kind of an important epiphany in her life, the moment she understood that she had to get her homework done as soon as possible. Her grades certainly improved, not that they needed much of that. Perhaps it made her a nerd, but Zia actually enjoyed doing homework. Perhaps it was one of her best-kept secrets, but it was definitely true, as long as the topic was interesting to her. It was the whole "Ravenclaw" thing.

Doing her homework on Fridays meant that she had a lot of free time on Saturdays and Sundays, and that was always great. She could remove herself from all thoughts of school and totally relax. Even if the subjects were interesting, it strained Zia to be always working and reading. Weekends completely off made it easier, when it was possible.

But now the NEWTs were approaching, and Zia was a bit concerned. Her sixth year at Hogwarts was almost over, and she had no idea what she was heading towards. She was supposed to pick a direction, but she couldn't decide on one. There were many different areas of magic that sparked her interest. She didn't know how to pick just one!

It was this that she was stressing about when Figaro Sellaphinx rushed over and told her that he needed something urgent. What a perfect distraction from concerns about her future! Fig seemed like he was trying to act nonchalantly, but it was more than a little clear that all was not right. Zia's eyes widened. She looked at Fig surreptitiously and said, "What's up?" She took a quick scan of the area to see if there was any immediate danger ahead.

Zia was as cooperative and cheerful as he ever expected her to be without a book in front of her, so he wasn't disappointed when she came along and inquired to his purpose.

He led them a little bit further away and then positioned himself so that his back was to the room.  He was strangely still smiling, but his expression flitted back and forth from a look of slight panic.

"I um..." he halted.  "Okay, well.  I think I Obliviated myself?" He winced almost apologetically, his big nose wrinkling and his teeth showing.  "I think?  I mean...if it worked I wouldn't remember.  But if I didn't, then I also wouldn't remember, so..."

He scratched the back of his neck and laughed.  "Crazy, right? Massively."

Figaro wasn't sure if he was looking for help or just wanting to have a laugh, but there was something unnerving about thinking one might have lost a chunk of your life.  But maybe he wasn't missing anything at all?

Without verbally responding to her, Fig dragged Zia away from the spot she'd been inhabiting. She didn't mind, it wasn't as if she'd been doing anything productive. In fact, it was probably pretty counter-productive to freak out about what her future held on a random Sunday afternoon in the middle of April. There was time. Some time.

"I um..." he halted.  "Okay, well.  I think I Obliviated myself? "I think?  I mean...if it worked I wouldn't remember.  But if I didn't, then I also wouldn't remember, so..."

Zia was a little irked by Figaro's problem. "How do you know?" She had just kind of blurted the question out, but even after she asked it she realized it was still valid. Zia wasn't judging him, and her face was displaying concern. He was right -- if it had worked, he wouldn't remember. Besides, what reason would anyone have to Obliviate themself? Zia couldn't come up with a sensible rationale so she assumed it had to be an interesting story, at least.

"Crazy, right? Massively."

Yes, it was pretty crazy. Pretty scary, too. What had he done that was now totally forgotten? That would be the first question on Zia's mind, but she didn't want to worry Fiagro right away. She didn't know if such an inquiry would cause him to panic.

"Zia, Zia, Zia...!" Figaro doted on her with false condescension.  He laid a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.  "That's the thing - how do you know if you've been Obliviated? Welcome to my problem."

He looked back over his shoulder, checking to see if anyone was listening.  He couldn't be sure, but if he could be he'd be sure to be sure that this was surely not something he should let anyone know about it.  But then it could be nothing and hopefully everyone would just assume he and Zia were a couple and life would be dandy.

But since he couldn't be sure, he inched himself and Zia a little further away.  Then he began to explain.

"Right, so bear with me.  I've been trying to figure out what I want to do.  You know. After Hogwarts." He paused to roll his eyes. "And I was thinking Healer, but I've got rubbish marks, so I heard you can be an Obliviator for the Ministry.  I'm pretty sure that's where I settled and knowing me, it's very likely I'd have given it a go.  And knowing everyone else, they'd be too clever to let me do it on them..."

He shrugged, not at all sorry about his reputation.  He'd have loved to Obliviate someone else.  Hence why the career path was so enticing.

"And so here I am.  I was just walking down a corridor just now and realized I didn't really remember how I got there."

Figaro looked at Zia.  She was smart, right? Ravenclaws always had opinions on things like this, didn't they?

"Zia, Zia, Zia...!"

Whenever people tried to be condescending towards Zia, whether it was real or not, she thought they sounded pretty silly. Kind of like a kazoo. When Figaro said it, though, he was a little more relaxed and slow... it definitely didn't sound the same as when her family said it. Probably because he was just kidding, and not thrown off by the fact that she was a baby or because she had bright pink hair.

"That's the thing - how do you know if you've been Obliviated? Welcome to my problem."

This was an interesting quandary. As she thought it over, her face assumed a puzzled position: she pursed her lips to the side and her brows furrowed. Before she could put any serious thought into the problem, though, Figaro was yet again pulling her away, this time pulling her a little closer. Did he smell good? This must have been a very big secret. It was nice of him to trust her, so she looked around as well to make double-sure that no one was coming.

"Right, so bear with me.  I've been trying to figure out what I want to do.  You know. After Hogwarts." He paused to roll his eyes. "And I was thinking Healer, but I've got rubbish marks, so I heard you can be an Obliviator for the Ministry.  I'm pretty sure that's where I settled and knowing me, it's very likely I'd have given it a go.  And knowing everyone else, they'd be too clever to let me do it on them..."

Zia could absolutely relate to Fig's lack of direction. She had a lot of interests in several different areas, and she didn't want to pick one to stick to forever yet. She'd never considered becoming an Obliviator before, and probably for a good reason -- it was a tricky business. It was probably silly of him to do that with anyone to watch him. Of course no one would allow Figaro to test such a thing (or anything) on them, but maybe someone wanted to watch and see what on earth Figaro Sellaphinx was going to do next.

"Was anyone around when you did it?" she asked. She assumed her thinking position again. "Wouldn't you have known you were going to forget before you cursed yourself?" She asked this sweetly, genuinely wondering if this was possible to even obliviate yourself in the first place. Could you cast such a spell on yourself?

Figaro pointed at Zia emphatically and at first it wasn't clear why.  But a moment later he clapped his hands and nearly shouted, "BRILLIANT!"

He quieted down real quick but was still nodding excitedly.  They were getting somewhere.  "Yes.  Right.  That would have been brilliant to have written something down or had a mate nearby.  Would have.  But can we honestly have expected that kind of forethought from Figaro Sellaphix?"  He wrinkled his nose.

"Can't be sure."

He thought for a moment then said, "it's Thursday, right?"

By the look on her face, it was definitely not Thursday..."Friday?"

"BRILLIANT!"

Figaro's exclamation startled Zia, since they had just been whispering quietly, and then it almost knocked her over. Figaro's enthusiasm was causing him to -- well, the best word was bounce? He was just incessantly nodding and smiling. Zia slowly began to smile too, though... had she just solved it? If a friend had been there they could report what had happened.

"Yes.  Right.  That would have been brilliant to have written something down or had a mate nearby.  Would have.  But can we honestly have expected that kind of forethought from Figaro Sellaphix? Can't be sure."

Zia's smile faltered a little, but thinking about Figaro thinking something through brought it back. At least he could laugh at himself. That was a pretty good way at dealing with your faults. Zia certainly didn't have that skill, and whenever her flaws were exposed she just became incredibly annoyed and irritable.

"It's Thursday, right?" Uh oh. Zia's smile immediately left her face and a look of huge worry and concern replaced it. "....Friday?". Oh dear, this wasn't good. She put her hand on his arm and looked in his eyes for a sign of ....something, she didn't know what. "Um... maybe we should sit down?"

Why was she touching him? He was momentarily distracted when she laid her hand on his arm, but now she looked as if...someone had died.

"What?" he demanded, making no move to sit down.  He had Obliviated himself, hadn't he! He was missing time! Part of him was rather excited.  This showed promise! Obliviation was complicated magic and he'd managed to pull it off! But on the other hand, he very well may have erased his memory.  Which, was not good.

"What?" he asked again. "You're joking! Don't the piss. It's Thursday." 

Alright, Zia knew that her face was a pretty open book and she had to look pretty worried but his face kind of looked a little too happy for that. It threw her off but she was glad that at least he wasn't panicking like she thought she might have if the situations were reversed. Plus, at least he knew who he was -- and who she was, which was a good sign. Plus she totally didn't mind it; Fig was amusing.

"Um- I don't really know how else to say this but," Zia paused and looked him straight in the eye, attempting to prepare for any reaction he might make, "It's Sunday." She paused. "April 18th," she added, just to clarify. And just for extra measure she added, "....2010...?" She really hoped it was only the day of the week that he had mixed up.

Zia was usually pretty straight forward and so Figaro was feeling pretty sure she wouldn't actually mess with him.  Hence why he'd trusted her to help him sort this out. But..

He narrowed his eyes,  "Eightee--" His eyes momentarily shifted upward as he tried to visualize a calendar. Then a look of horror came over him. 

"I missed holiday!?" He looked as if he'd just heard that Quidditch had been made illegal or that he'd have to stay in school an extra year, or that Three Owl Standard broke up. 

"I Oblivated away my holiday... A whole week of freedom and I don't remember a second of it..." He shut his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands.  He thought hard trying to remember what he remembered last.  As he'd walked into the Great Hall he'd been sure he'd been walking back from Transfiguration. The Thursday before holiday! How could he have been so reckless? He couldn't imagine a worse scenario.

He came up out of his hands looked more harried and worn than most people have probably ever seen Figaro (save when he and Sophie Flickwick broke up in February.)  He sighed and shook his head.  He looked defeated.

"Is it gone for good, you think?"

Zia let Figaro process the information. Slowly but surely, the looks of panic and worry that she'd expected earlier were beginning to show. Though she'd never experienced anything like this, she could understand the frustration. What Fig was most disappointed about, though, was missing his holiday. Technically he hadn't missed it, but Zia supposed that not remembering an entire holiday was about the same as not having one at all. Breaks were important for mental health, Zia knew that. Especially for someone like Fig.

"Is it gone for good, you think?"

Figaro looked really distressed now. Zia wished there was something she could do, but she was fairly certain there was no counter-spell when it came to memory charms. Zia looked at him sympathetically and rubbed his arm supportively. Maybe he hadn't obliviated himself correctly -- well, obviously that was true, but maybe he'd done a spell that could somehow be reversed. That was a big risk, though, and she didn't want to wipe out the rest of his memory.

What could she even say? "It's alright," Zia soothed. "Spring break was really boring. It's the weekend still - why don't we try to do something fun?" Hopefully his brain was okay. She wasn't really sure what the procedure was for someone who had obliviated themselves. Zia's memory was perfectly intact (or at least, she was pretty certain it was), so she didn't know if there were any strange after-effects, but it looked like Fig could use some cheering up.

Someone walked by just then and waved.  "Alright, Fig? Good holiday?"

Figaro looked startled at the interruption but had time to return with, "yea, mate - wicked."  And then he put his back against the wall and slid down to sitting.  "Wait...what if I didn't do this? What if something ... happened and someone else erased my memory of holiday on purpose? Did I witness a crime? Did I discover a secret that the Ministry doesn't want us to know?"

His brows furrowed as he delved into all the things he might not remember. 

Fig looked up at Zia with what looked to be a paranoid determination.

"I have to get my holiday back, Zia.  Lives could be at stake."

Zia didn't know how to help him. There was no reversing a memory charm, at least not one that she'd learned yet, and apparently it couldn't be reversed by hoping really hard. She twisted her small, lip-glossed lips to the side and pondered the situation as Figaro greeted a friend, but to no avail. To make matters worse, now Figaro was becoming seriously upset about it, which was unusual to see. He slid to the ground and Zia's eyes grew a bit bigger.

"Wait...what if I didn't do this? What if something ... happened and someone else erased my memory of holiday on purpose? Did I witness a crime? Did I discover a secret that the Ministry doesn't want us to know?... I have to get my holiday back, Zia. Lives could be at stake."

The scenarios that Figaro came up with and mentioned were not impossible, but they weren't really plausible either. Still, Zia couldn't prove him wrong and she couldn't bring his memory back, so the best she could do was help him relive spring break. She joined him on the floor, carefully folding her legs to the side since she was in a skirt. "What do you feel like doing?" she asked, her face expressing her open mind. Zia wasn't really afraid of anything but being alone, and so she could certainly join Figaro on some sort of adventure.

What did he want to do? His eyebrows went up as he considered the question.  He'd been relying on the clever Ravenclaw and her guaranteed wonderful ideas, but she was asking him.  He had to give her credit - that in itself was a very good idea.  Zia, you haver of good ideas...

He scratched the back of his neck in a nervous habit and thought.  "I'd normally never suggest this," he then said in all seriousness.  "Don't mistake me for some kind of... just...I think we need and adult."

Figaro sighed in reservation for what they now had to do.  They had to, gross, find a professor, blech, and ask them for, cringe, help.

"Unless we know of any reliably present seventh years."  The older students at this school made themselves very hard to locate, whether they were studying themselves into ash or hiding from impending responsibility, the seventh years were scarce.